Sea Glass Memories
by StarKatt427
Summary: A trip to the beach...a near death encounter...a look into a childhood experience Edward and Winry shared: drowning. Previously Sea Glass and Saltwater. - Brotherhood/manga based.
1. Opening

**And so begins my newest story, which I finally settled for naming **Sea Glass Memories**!**

**I adore this one; it's one of my favorites I've done. I got the idea for this story on July 20th, 2011 when I was reading the book _Twenty Boy Summer _by Sarah Ockler, because it talks about the beach a lot in it and about sea glass, which really fascinated me. They talk about the rarity of red sea glass, and I thought, "Hey, Ed's color is red!" And so, as I was lying in bed that night, I began working on this story in my head some, even though I wasn't finished with the book. I finished the book the next day and began work on this, and I finished writing and editing on the 22nd. Also, the city in this story in the southeast of Amestris, Barom Reachea (I pronounce the _ch_ like _ck_) was named after a Cambodian king, Ponhea Yat, better known as Barom Reachea II (it's not a real place in the FMA universe, and neither is Felsina Beach; I created them both).**

**This story is set in the Brotherhood/manga universe, as I have Trisha's death occurring a lot earlier, Alphonse's hair and eyes are gold, and Winry's parents are still alive. I don't own anything: characters, plot, etc. Hiromu Arakawa does, and Sarah Ockler owns _Twenty Boy Summer_, where I got my inspiration to write this from.**

**StarKatt427**

* * *

><p>Edward watched her, silently leaning back in the shade of the cabin they were renting, arms crossed loosely over his chest and ocean wind whipping his hair around his face, the taste of sea salt on his lips and skin and in his nose as he breathed. She walked on the edge of the water, the cool blue clearness lapping at her toes as she ambled across wet sand, the bottom of her white sundress soaked from the waves and stuck to her calves. Her hair was loose, wild in the wind and almost bleached white in the bright morning sun, blowing over her shoulder as she knelt down, inspecting something she'd just found buried in the sand. He watched her lift it up, fingers nimble and long as they gently cradled the object. Her face was caught up in a bright smile as her palm closed around her treasure, and then she was jogging over toward him, her feet kicking up loose sand.<p>

"Ed, look!" Winry hollered out before she was even near him, still closer to the ocean. He sighed, amused, then moved from the beam his back had been pressed against and walked the rest of the way to meet her, trying to contain a smile at her enthusiasm. Hands shoved in his short's pockets, he stood in front of her, waiting for her catch her breath, even though she had barely been running.

"What's up?" he asked, the sun warming his back through his thin shirt, grainy sand warm under his bare feet and between his toes.

"Look what I found!" Winry held out her hand, and Edward looked down at the brightly colored, jaggedly shaped object resting in the center of her palm. It was small, almost as long as Winry's pinky finger, and shaped somewhat like a square. He already knew it was sea glass, something Winry had immediately taken to hunting along the shore, and while he was glad she'd found something to keep her busy, he was beginning to get tired of her bringing handfuls of the glass to show him, colors varying from kelly green to sea blue to clear.

"It's almost like magic," she had said their first day there, three pieces of green sea glass in her hand, all different shades.

"There's no such thing as magic," Edward, ever logical and scientific, had replied.

"I know that. Still, it's amazing, isn't it? This glass can come from anywhere in the world, crossing thousands of miles of ocean just to get to one place. It's really beautiful."

Edward had brushed her off, rolling his eyes fondly, before lifting her up and tossing her in the churning shallows, her squealing as she'd resurfaced, then pulling him in after her, and what had been just the two of them goofing off in the water soon took to land and became something slow and gentle that kept them occupied for a very long time.

But as Ed looked down at the sea glass Winry now held, he realized maybe it was beautiful and magic, the way it was created. This piece was different, and Ed felt himself become fascinated by the little object, his eyes going slightly wide.

"It's red," Winry sad, grinning as she watched Ed stare at the glass, brushing some of her hair away from her face. "It's really rare."

"Huh," he murmured, still looking down at the red sea glass in her hand. It was a bright red, flecked with darker crimson and burgundy and scarlet, but also streaked with paler tones of vermillion and orange-red; if the sun hit it a certain way, Edward could swear he could see pink. He looked back up at Winry, feeling himself smile as she grinned at him, her blue eyes brilliant and brighter than any star. "It's pretty," he said truthfully, looking once more at the sea glass she held. It really was a treasure.

She laughed, light as air, like wind chimes in the breeze. Reaching out, Winry grabbed his wrist, pulling a hand from his pocket, and he let her, wondering what she was up to. Once she was holding his hand, she turned her other hand over, the one with the sea glass, and lightly dropped it onto his palm. "Here," she said, still smiling. "It's for you."

"Wait, but you just said it was rare?" Ed asked, confused. He tried to give it back to her, but she put her hands behind her back, eyes twinkling. "Don't _you _want it?"

"I have plenty," Winry replied, slowly beginning to back up, still facing him. "I like the blues and greens better anyway. Besides," she said, stopping in her tracks and looking up at him, almost shy. "Red's your color."

Before Edward could even think of anything to say to that, Winry was gone, walking back down toward the waves, her hands still locked behind her. Ed looked down at the glass in his hand, so small and solid. He curled his fingers over, holding it, a steady weight in his hand.

He looked back up at his wife of four days as she searched for more of the ocean's riches, her face visible only when she turned a certain way. Her eyes were curious, eager, alive.

Smiling, Edward gripped the little piece of smooth glass and walked back to his shady spot, resuming his earlier action of watching her.


	2. Thirteen Years Ago

The train ride lasted almost four and half hours, but it seemed a lot longer to two seven-year-olds and a six-year-old. The three blonde children sat across from the little girl's parents, all of them beginning to get sleepy. Winry stared up at the ceiling, not really seeing it, but the beach her parents had told her about, almost able to feel the ocean wind kissing her skin, taste saltwater on her tongue, feel the warm, white sand between her toes. She forced her eyes open wide, trying not to fall asleep, even as the train continued to chug along at a soothing speed. Alphonse sat in the middle between her and Edward, his little head bobbing as he tried to keep himself awake; eventually, he ended up sacked out on Ed's shoulder, breath coming deep an even. Edward sat by the window, elbow resting on the sill, his face on his palm and his eyes bored and sleepy. Once he'd learned that trains weren't as much fun as he'd thought they would be, a restlessness associated with keeping still settled into his bones and left him uninterested and tired. His hand reached up to smooth Al's bangs away from his eyes, and then he was still again.

Urey Rockbell sat beside his wife on the other bench, quietly immersed in a novel, while Sara simply looked out the window, seeming to enjoy the change of scenery. They hadn't been this far south in years, before Winry was even born, and it was nice to be going back. It would be all three kids' first time at the beach, and Sara wanted it to be special. Especially with the war going on. There weren't enough happy moments anymore.

It was July, 1906, and three months prior, Urey and Sara had received an official military request to join as surgeons in Ishval. Winry knew nothing of the request, but they had discussed it with Pinako, Urey's mother, and while she had told them they would be doing what was right for their country by going and saving lives, both knew she didn't want them gone. Still, even if they decided to go, it would be another year before they would actually leave for the front lines. At the moment, they didn't know what they would do yet.

Sara had come up with the idea of bringing Winry to the ocean where they had spent several weeks a few months after they had gotten married, and Urey had immediately taken to it. But he'd reminded her that Winry wouldn't likely go without her best friends, the Elric brothers. Besides, they needed a vacation too, with Trisha's death having only been three years prior. They'd tried to get Pinako to come along, but she'd kindly declined, claiming her automail shop needed her more than the sand and sea crabs.

At the moment, they had another hour to travel before they arrived in the seaside city of Barom Reachea, a metropolis at the very southeastern end of Amestris. Once they arrived at the small cabin they were renting, it would be off to the ocean, a strip of bright sand and cool water known as Felsina Beast.

When Sara glanced over at the children once more, she smiled at the sight of them, all sacked out and leaning their weight against Edward. She reached over, tucking a strand of Winry's hair behind her ear, and said, "It's their first time seeing the ocean." She tried to keep her tone relaxed, nonchalant, but a tinge of worry crept through.

Urey hadn't heard; he was too caught up in his book. Sara looked at him and rolled her eyes, then gently shoved his shoulder.

"What was that?" he asked, eyes still somewhat distant and far away, lost to the words of an author's creation.

Sara repeated herself.

"They'll be fine," he reassured her. "We're going to be watching them. It's not like we'll let them drown."

"Don't joke." Sara's voice took on a slightly harder edge.

Urey put his arm around her and rested his hand on the back of her head, a silent apology. "Look, Ed won't let Al out of his sight, and Winry will stick with them. There's nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, you're right," she said, still not completely convinced. A lot could happen in a second. She imagined all of the horrible thing that could happen if she took her eyes off of them for just that one second. She looked at her sleeping baby, then to the two boys who were like her nephews, and then to her husband, his face dear and familiar as he gave her a soft smile. Sara smiled in return.

"Aren't I always?" he teased, and she laughed softly, her hand going up to rub over the stubble on his jaw.

"Of course, dear."

* * *

><p>"Now remember, you have to stay in the shallow water."<p>

"Got it," three voices chirped in unison.

"You can't get out of our sight."

"Yup."

"No getting in right after you eat."

"Okay."

"Watch out for jellyfish. Al, if you see one, don't touch it."

The little boy made a slightly exasperated noise. "I won't."

"I guess that's about everything," Sara said as she finished coating Winry's shoulders and back with sun block, having already lathered the boys in it. She pulled back and placed her hands on her hips, giving them a partly joking, partly stern look, as Urey came up behind her. "Just be careful, and watch out for each other."

"Yes, ma'am," Winry said, hardly able to stand still as she turned to look back at the ocean, the one her mother had nearly yanked her away from before she walked into without the proper sunscreen. She gazed out into the sheer vastness of it, the water a mixture of cyan and cerulean blue and pale ocean green, white caps curling over one another and waves rolling, the sky a very bright blue and filled with puffy white cumulus clouds. The sand wasn't quite as bright as she'd imagined, but it was better like this; she was actually _seeing _it, not just imagining.

"Can we get in?" Ed asked, trying to mask his impatience and failing horribly. Al looked up hopefully.

Sara heaved a fake sigh, then said, her voice sounding as if she was conceding defeat, "I suppose so."

Three shrill shrieks of delight filled the air and then they were gone, racing each other down the beach to the edge of the water. Both Edward and Winry were in charge of keeping an eye on Alphonse and not letting him go farther out than he could handle, but they also had to watch out for each other.

Urey laughed, wrapping hid arms around his wife's waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I haven't seen them this excited in a while."

"I know."

"You have the best ideas."

"I know."

He feigned mock hurt. "Aren't we being a little full of our self?"

She cracked out a laugh, so similar to Winry's, and grinned at him. "You said it, not me."

"It's true, you know. You really do."

She sighed when she felt his lips graze her neck, her eyes momentarily closing, then reopening as she watched Winry stick her feet in the water, Al's hand in her right and Edward's in her left.

"I love you, you know."

Sara turned and kissed Urey's unshaven cheek, then rested her head against his, feeling peaceful. "I know."

* * *

><p>Edward lay in the sand on his back, an arm thrown over his closed eyes, keeping the bright sunlight from filtering through his eyelids. After about two hours of playing off and on in the water, taking a break to eat lunch, and the fact that he'd had to get up earlier than he would have preferred, he was sleepy. The sand was warm under his back and against his one arm lying on it and his legs, and he felt the beginnings of a nap taking place.<p>

The first thing he'd learned about the ocean was that even if it was warm out in the open, the water was _cold_. It was a nice cold, one that made you feel alive and hyper, like a sugar rush, but it eventually wore off, first on Alphonse, then him. Al was happy simply playing in the sand, the waves lapping up at him as he sat playing with a stick and finding pieces of shells as they floated up. Winry had built a sandcastle with him after about forty minutes of swimming around in the shallows and was now somewhere along the shore, walking around and finding shells to keep and give to Al.

The second thing Edward had learned was that in most cases, the ocean sapped your energy and made you extremely exhausted, even after only two hours. Which led to Ed, now lying in the sun, a fresh coat of sunscreen recently applied by Winry's dad.

Just as his thoughts began to grow fuzzy with sleep, a voice rang out, loud and clear, "Hey."

His jaw set in a scowl, Edward removed his arm and pushed up on his elbows, glaring at Winry. She stood several feet away, looking down at him, her short hair damp and coiled from the salt water, colored dirty blonde at the moment. Her hands were on her hips, a gesture every inch Sara Rockbell, and she had a big smile on her face. She was wearing a new swimsuit, one her mother had gotten her just for this trip, a little pink one piece covered with yellow and blue flowers.

Even as he forced his jaw to tighten in its frown, he couldn't help but think nearly being asleep, then being woken from that almost sleep, was worth seeing Winry looking like this. His scowl grew more apparent at the idea, and he immediately brushed the thought off as too much sun exposure.

"What?" he asked, voice thick from nearly dozing off.

"Al wants to play tag."

"Now?"

"Yes, now." She walked forward, bending down to latch hold onto one of his arms. "Come on."

He pulled away, lying back down. "Later, okay? I'm takin' a nap."

Winry blew out her lips in that way she did when she was annoyed with him, which was often, and huffed a sigh before standing back straight. "You're no fun. We came to the ocean to play, and all you want to do is sleep."

"Later," he repeated, turning onto his side and away from her. He wouldn't be able to hear her feet trudge back over the sand, but he somehow knew she would stand there for a moment, staring at him and trying to burn holes in the back of his head with her guilt glare, but he wouldn't see it. He was already falling back into his nap routine.

After a moment, he was able to sense she was gone, and he quickly looked over his shoulder and saw her walking back along the water toward Al, kicking up wet sand as she did. He turned back over, burrowing into the sand than was cooler beneath the surface. Stubborn girl.

* * *

><p>Winry walked along the shore, up to her ankles in the water, enjoying the wetness that was no longer freezing cold but a comfortable cool as it caressed her skin. The breeze off the ocean was nice, not too warm or chilly, and it whipped her now drying hair around her face and shoulders. Her hands were balled into a fist, one carrying the small shells she'd found for Al, the other holding her own. She swung her arms at her sides, kicking lightly at the water and splashing herself with it as she passed by the few other people walking along the beach as well; there weren't many, most of them grownups and older couples, none children.<p>

If possible, Winry would live here forever. She loved everything about the ocean: the colors of the water and sand and sky; the feel of the salty ocean on her skin and tongue; the briny scent it gave off; the precious little trinkets it so willingly left along the shore, easy for Winry to find once she looked; the cool, wet sand under her feet and the dry, hot sand slipping through her toes like powder; the birds that flew over the sky, seagulls and other ones she'd never heard of but her mother told her about, their cries ringing out across the immensity and beauty of the ocean.

It was so perfect, nature at it's finest, and Winry had never seen anything as breathtaking.

Not in the least bit deterred by Edward's sour mood (okay, so that was a lie; she was a little peeved off, but Al had simply laughed when she'd explained it to him and they had ended up played tag along the water for the next few minutes, trying not to miss Ed's presence as the third member of their trio too much), she searched for the two perfect shells, the two that wouldn't be chipped or flawed in any way, to give to her parents as a present for bringing them here. She had just recently found the first one, a small, iridescent shell that was colored rose pink and was, from what Winry could tell, perfect in every way for her mother.

After another several minutes of picking up, discarding, and repeating the action, she discovered the mate to her mother's shell half buried in the sand, one that had the same shimmering appearance, only tinted the palest mint green she had ever seen. She smiled, laughing out excitedly. Perfect.

Winry walked back to where she had earlier sat her bucket, now filled with pieces of sand dollars and driftwood, fragmented shells and whole ones, and gently sat the partner shells down on top of the pile.

After that was taken care of, she headed in Alphonse's direction. He was making sand drawings, creating them with a long stick he'd found that morning and had kept with him ever since, outlining the creations with the shells he found and the ones Winry brought him. Sitting just far enough from the water so it wouldn't wash anything away before he had finished but also close enough so that the sand was slightly damp, he looked like he was having the time of his life, pale yellow eyes bright and natural smile in place, his shoulders and back only slightly colored red by the sun; Sara made sure he didn't burn.

"Here, I got some more," she said, sitting down beside him, transferring her handful of shells to him, receiving a "Thanks," in reply. He looked over each of them, and Winry felt proud of herself to have only picked up the prettiest for Al.

Except, of course, for the ones she kept herself.

She looked at his latest work, taking in the shape of the ears, the big brown eyes that always seemed a little sad, even when drawn in sand. She laughed. "Den?"

Al laughed with her, chubby cheeks pulled up in the same brilliant smile she knew Edward possessed, only he never displayed it. "Yeah," he said, taking a shell and placing it over the drawn collar he'd made for her dog. "Now he can be at the beach too."

She leaned over and gave him a one-arm hug for his thoughtfulness, then stood up and stretched.

"Going back to explore?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Yup. I bet I can find a starfish."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

Alphonse smiled at her, a very soft, gentle smile. However, as she watched him, it turned a little mischievous, looking extremely like Edward. "Try and find some seaweed."

"Why?" she asked, wondering why he would want that.

"We can shove it down Brother's shorts. He'll think it's a snake."

Winry laughed, a deep, belly laugh, at the thought. Although most people thought Alphonse was the sweet little angel of the group, he could be as cunning as Edward sometimes. "Perfect."

After deciding on what length of seaweed would be perfect for a snake and settling on when they would act, Winry departed Al's company and headed down the beach, passing by her parents to wave and assure them she was fine and that she would stay within sight. Her mother place her straw hat on her head, telling Winry to wear it to keep the sun out of her eyes, even though the sun was going behind the clouds. Wonry complied, and then she was walking again on the shoreline. She had to admit, the hat _did _help even though it was beginning to cloud over, and if she got tired of wearing it, she could always use it to carry her shells and other items.

As she walked backwards, something caught her eye. She stopped as her foot lifted over it, cocking her head to the side in that way children do when examining something. Kneeling down, her knees brushing the sand and water, Winry reached out and brushed away some of the sand that was partly hiding the object of interest. She shoved her fingers into the cold sand until they caught onto the edge of something thin, about the length and width of an average river rock. Lifting it up, she continued to brush off the wet sand coating it until she was gazing at a piece of light blue, see-through glass.

The color was strange, a blue Winry had never seen, lighter than her eyes but tinted almost green. She turned it over, examining it. It was an almost perfect triangle, the top a little jagged, like it had broken off from something and has been mostly smoothed out by the ocean tides.

Sea glass.

Back in Resembool, in her parents' bedroom, Winry often admired the bits and pieces of colored glass that resided in a glass jar that sat on the dresser, too high for her to reach alone. Her father had once saw her trying to get a better look, and so he had taken the jar down and opened the lid, spreading the sea glass across the bed for her to admire. He'd told her that once, before she was born, he and her mom had gone to a beach and found the strange beauty that was sea glass. It traveled all over the world's oceans, moving from beach to beach, one shore to the next. She remembered being especially fond of a piece of pale purple glass, one her dad said her mother had found and was one of the hardest colors to find because of its rarity, along with colors like red, teal, black, and orange. They were the collection Urey and Sara had made years ago, their three week visit to a beach on the southern edge of the country. The beach Winry herself was now at.

Once her mother had discovered Winry's fascination with that single piece, she'd given it to her, telling her the purple fragment could be the start of her own collection.

The glass fit snuggly in her palm as she closed her hand over it, her heart light and fluttering with excitement. She could now begin her collection, just like her mother had said!

At the exact moment she began to walk back toward her parents to show them her good fortune, a stray gust of wind caught under the edge of her hat and sent it flying, flying, flying out over the ocean before it landed on the water's surface, just several feet away.

Winry ran back up to where the sand was dry and the waves couldn't reach and sat her piece of sea glass down on the grainy particles, then quickly trotted back to the water, walking into it and quickly finding herself knee deep. She checked over her shoulder, making sure her parents weren't watching, then proceeded to move out even further, the water now splashing at her waist. The hat was still out of reach and floating away even farther now, but she could get it; she'd gone out slightly deeper than this earlier with Ed.

But that was with Edward, and she was alone now. Still, she didn't worry, even as a wave lifted her momentarily off of her feet.

"Winry!"

Winry turned to look over her shoulder and saw her mother, now standing, her eyes wide and horrified as she watched Winry out in the water. She stood still, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Was she mad because of the hat blowing off? Winry looked back at the straw article, then at her mother. Her dad stood a ways away from Sara, closer to Winry, his face confused and anxious.

"It's okay!" Winry called back, walking out even farther, her fingers inching closer to the hat's brim. "I got it!"

"Winry, get out of the water now!" Sarah hollered at her, now moving, her feet walking purposely and speedily toward the water, Urey right behind her. Al was looking up from his drawings now, his eyes first fixed to the Rockbell parents, than Winry. His eyes widened.

"It's fine," Wnry said, more to herself, as she turned away from them, her fingers brushing the hat. She was up to her lower chest in water now and it was cold, almost as cold as when she'd first gotten in. She was lifted off of her feet once more, and it took longer for her to find her footing, nearly slipping under in the process.

She heard her dad shout, something that sounded like, "You're in too deep," but she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.

"Got it!" she cried out triumphantly, hand capturing the hat, and she held it up, turning back to face her parents as she waved the hat above her head. "Mom, I got it!"

She watched, confused, as her father suddenly started running, eyes wide and face twisted in a strange expression she had never seen before, one she later would understand to be fear, true and genuine fear. Sara was right behind him running as well, terrified.

"Move! Winry, move!" she screamed, voice breaking on the last word.

Alphonse was on his feet now, face frightened as he followed behind the adults, first walking, then running as fast as his short legs would carry him.

"Winry!" Urey wasn't even at the edge of the water. "Winry, swim back! Swim back now!"

Something made her turn around, but she wasn't sure what. Maybe it was the suddenly too loud sound of the waves churning, or the way her feet kept leaving the ocean bottom. But as she turned, for the first time since she'd entered the water after the hat, she was worried. Beyond worry; she was scared, scared to turn around, but something compelled her to.

And when she did, she found herself almost face to face with a giant wall of water.

The last thing she heard before finding herself underwater was someone screaming her name, voice raw and terrified and filled with determination.

Edward's voice.

She didn't have time to catch a breath big enough to keep her sustained for long, and once she was under the water, she wasn't even able to hold it. Salt water rushed up her nose and down her throat, into her lungs, burning and biting as it went. Besides the fact that she'd just inhaled ocean water, disorientation was the only thing she was aware of. Her eyes were open wide, burning and itching, but what really surprised her was how dark the water was. On the surface, it was inviting and clear and crystal like, and below, it was almost the same in ways, except for the shadows that rose from out of no where, making the water look a shadowy, stormy blue-black. She could make out shapes and shadows, but nothing was clear due to her burning eyes, and she found herself shutting them.

After taking in that she was in fact under the water, a more important issue arose: she needed air. Now. And a way to get the water out of her lungs.

But when the wave had flattened over her, she had lost all sense of direction, and even with the sun blaring in through the surface, Winry couldn't make out which way was up or down, left or right. Lungs screaming from lack of air, she searched, grasped the water for anything solid, only able to open her eyes for a few seconds.

The next time she opened her eyes, her vision was dotted with black spots. She was loosing consciousness, fast and steadily. She felt herself take another breath instinctively, and more water shot down the back of her throat. It took several moments before she was able to keep herself from breathing any more in, to force her lungs to close off. Her limbs felt like led in the cold water, her ears ringing, and it suddenly felt like too much effort to try and move. To do anything but float.

Winry was still conscious enough to feel the arm catch her around her chest, but she didn't know what it was. She felt herself being pulled up, water swirling around her, and then she was breaking through the surface, gasping and coughing up water, just in time for a small wave to push her right back under and she took in more water.

She was yanked upward once more, twin arms locked around her, holding her up. "Dammit," a voice muttered, deeper than usual and laced with fear.

Ed.

"Hang on, okay?" he asked, voice desperate, and then they were moving, moving toward what was hopefully the shore. "It's not far," he told her.

She opened her eyes, look out at the water…

And saw that they were farther out than she'd remembered walking. The waves had carried her off, Edward along with her, even as he fought them. Somehow, through a haze of breathing in water and nearly loosing awareness, Winry knew he was lying and couldn't find it within herself to contradict him.

A white cap rushed them from behind, pushing them back under for what was probably only seconds but what felt like minutes of trying not to breath, trying to not let the water enter her lungs, and failing. As soon as they resurfaced, she gagged, nearly throwing up.

"Just hang on a little longer," he pleaded, voice slightly husky. "Please?"

She was dead weight, but he wasn't leaving her. He'd jumped in after her. To save her.

The next time they went under, neither came back up. Edward's arms were ripped from around her and they began to separate, the water pulling them back into it's depths.

She was going to die.

Edward was going to die.

They were going to die.

Going to die.

Die.

Die.

_Die._

Winry's eyes flew wide, a strange desperate resolve filling her, and she reached out, her fingers managing to grab onto Ed's. She couldn't pull him to her, she was too weak, but she refused to let go of his hand. She was _not_ going to die, and neither was he.

But the black dots were getting more prominent and she felt her body being weighed down. Edward's hand tightened around hers and he moved into sight, closer to her. He pulled himself next to her, his own body weak from swimming out to find her and trying to hold them both up, but he managed to do it. Winry still held his hand as she made her arm, which still did not want to cooperate, wrap around Ed's body, holding onto him. At the same moment, Edward's free arm was around her back, still supporting her.

They weren't going to die.

They couldn't.

Once she finally got her bearing and realized where _up _was Winry tried to kick her feet against the water, but it felt like she was moving in slow motion, limbs caught up in the sluggish pull of the water. Ed kicked right along with her, but they made little progress.

By the time she realized trying to kick their way up was futile, her vision was almost completely black. Her hand was going lax in Edward's, his only loosing slightly. At least he had enough air to live a little longer than she did.

They _were _going to die.

The last thing she saw before her consciousness fled her was a strange figure swimming toward them, body agile and strong, reminding her of a mermaid…

* * *

><p>Something slammed into her back, but it barely even stirred Winry from the darkness that surrounded her. It was almost like she was floating, out of place in the black void. She couldn't feel her body.<p>

Did she even have one?

The same hard, solid pressure hit between her shoulder blades, along her spine. It left a strange, gurgling feeling in her chest.

Another hit.

The feeling grew to an unwanted pressure.

Hit.

Pain.

"Breathe. Please breathe."

When the last slam made contact to her already aching back, Winry's eyes flew open and she found herself staring down, not at nothingness, but at the grainy white sand of the beach, it slipping and sliding beneath her now trembling body, the sky above colored lightly gray, the sun hidden behind a cloud. She was on the beach.

Not in the water.

Water.

She barely had time to realize she was going to vomit before she was, mouthfuls of water pouring out from her lungs in aching, burning gasps, coughs, and gags. She nearly hit the sand, but an arm kept her from falling, one that held her from behind and was against her chest. As she coughed up water, a warm, welcomed pressure found its way to her back: a hand, moving in soothing circles, sometimes patting her back to help keep up the water's steady flow from her lungs. Water shot from her nose, stinging as it exited onto the sand, and still she threw up, like there was a never ending supply. Her chest heaved, lungs throbbing. It felt like she didn't have any bones left, any limbs.

By the time it felt like she'd vomited the entire ocean back up, her lungs and throat and nose so sore and burning that it hurt to breath, Winry realized that it was her father holding her to his back, his large hand brushing away her matted hair. She somehow managed to turn to look up at him.

Urey Rockbell wasn't a man to get scared easily. But this wasn't fear; this was pure terror. He looked down at Winry, breaths coming deep and unevenly, almost broken as he heaved them out. He was soaking wet, blonde hair plastered to his face, blue eyes wide and relieved and still so scared. "Baby," he whispered, barely even a word, his voice almost completely lost to the wind.

But Winry heard it.

And she realized that she nearly died.

And then she cried.

She couldn't even get words out through her sobs and she cried, falling into her father's chest, his arms wrapping around her and holding her to him tightly. Tears burned tracks down her face; more saltwater. They ran into her mouth and down her face, hot on her skin. Urey's hand was on her head, stroking her hair, and through her own tears, she heard the sound of someone hitting the sand; collapsing.

And then more crying, but not her own.

She looked up at her father, but instead saw not only him, but her mother as well. She was looking down at her, tears spilling from her red rimmed eyes, one of her hands on Winry's face, cradling it, the other holding onto her husband's shoulder to keep from breaking. She couldn't even say anything.

Winry cried even harder. Because she'd scared her parents, because she'd lost that stupid hat and still felt miserable for loosing it, because her chest hurt, because she'd nearly drowned, because Edward had nearly drowned, because-

Ed.

Winry's eyes went almost wild as she looked around, desperately trying to find Edward. What if her father hadn't been able to find him? What if he was still under the water, not breathing?

Dead?

What if he was-

Right behind her parents.

She looked at Al for just a moment, seeing his wide, wet eyes and trembling bottom lip, before glancing just behind him, tearful gaze moving to Edward's soaked figure. His dark gold hair was stuck to his face in damp clumps, skin pale, whether due to the lack of bright sunlight or just the previous almost death experience she couldn't tell; maybe both. He was shaking, with cold and fear and something else she couldn't figure out, and his eyes were wide, pupils tiny black dots, barely noticeable. His hands were trembling, as were his lips, and he looked dangerously close to tears as well. Edward's face was frightened and relieved and so pitiful and heartbreaking that Winry cried even harder.

His face was the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness again, a single track of water leaking out from one of his golden eyes.

* * *

><p>Winry's head faintly pounded as she blearily opened her eyes, a hand going up to rub at them. She looked around her, taking in the dark wood walls, the paintings of the ocean and city covering them; one of the walls consisted of a giant window that let in the orange afternoon sun, and the light casted a glowing effect on everything. There was a coffee table to her right, an empty fireplace directly across from her on the wall. The couch she was on was long, curved in certain places so that it seemed to surround the small table, and a rocking chair and recliner sat off to the side near the hearth. The room was somewhat familiar, like she had merely glanced over it, unimpressed. She felt warm, almost too warm, like she was being suffocated by blankets; when she looked down at herself, she was wrapped in covers, up to her chin. Twisting her arms until they were free, the air that gently brushed over her bare arms wasn't cold, but she found herself shivering.<p>

Her lungs ached. So did her throat. And right after she freed herself from the blankets, she found she was cold.

"Hey," a voice, quiet and slightly anxious, asked from the other side of the couch, the side she hadn't been able to see.

Slowly rising up as to not make her headache any worse, Winry looked over at Edward, his knees drawn up under his blanket. He had on a long sleeved shirt, arms resting on his knees in a way that made her think he was probably cold too, like he wanted to wrap his arms around himself but resisted. Dark blonde hair, dry and tangled; yellow eyes, heavy-eyed, like he was fighting sleep. He looked very small against the beige couch, almost as if he would be swallowed up at any moment. There were at least three feet between them now, so she realized that when she had been lying down, her head had been not far from Ed's feet.

Did she look that tired? She imagined so, even if she couldn't get a look at her face. Winry glanced down at herself, seeing she was in her white nightgown, the sleeves puffy and loose on her upper arms. She looked back up at Edward, slightly confused as to why she was in her night clothes when the sun was just beginning to set.

Oh yeah. They had nearly drowned.

Winry's fuzzy mind finally remembered exactly why she felt so exhausted, why it felt like she was inhaling sandpaper. Edward had found her under the water, and right before they were both about to drown, her father had saved their lives.

As she began to greet him in return, a funny thing happened to her throat that left her coughing for a good twenty seconds. Edward's hand reached out, gently patting her back against the coughs racking her chest, burning her raw esophagus. Her eyes watered, and by the time she regained herself, Ed had pulled his hand back and was now waiting for her to begin, expression concerned and a little afraid, even as he tried to appear unconcerned by not looking at her for too long.

"How long have I been asleep?" she croaked out, voice hoarse and deep, sounding completely unlike her normal high, clear voice.

"About four hours," he said, not looking at her but at the facing wall. "It's after six-thirty."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

He watched her, expression strange. He looked almost angry.

"What?" she asked, puzzled, still groggy.

"That's all you can say? 'Oh'?"

"I guess."

He heaved an frustrated sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away.

"Are you okay?" she asked, shoving her hands beneath the blankets.

"Am _I _okay? I'm fine. I'm not the one who swallowed a million gallons of water."

As she watched him, his expression pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glared at his knees, she realized he was mad.

And it irritated her. Who was _he _to get mad at _her _for nearly drowning?

"You're the one who jumped in after me," she replied, voice missing the biting edge she'd hoped to achieve due to its rasping.

Edward turned to her, eyes bright and livid, like he was barely controlling himself. "After you were dumb enough to go after some stupid hat! You nearly _died_, idiot!"

Winry had a comeback on the very tip of her tongue, just waiting to be released. But as she parted her lips to yell at him, a strange hiccupping sound exited instead and fat tears began rolling down her cheeks and she found herself crying.

It caught both of them off guard; Winry was shocked to find herself crying for no reason, and Edward's eyes were wide, all traces of anger gone and extremely apologetic. He reached a hand out, leaving it to hover just away from her face, unsure.

After throwing up all that water hours ago, Winry was amazed to see that she was still able to produce tears, coughing as she cried past her aching lungs. She couldn't believe she was crying again, but all the earlier events of the day were beginning to catch up with her at lightning speed, leaving her a little disoriented and tired and still frightened: the sea going over her head, pulling her under and taking her breath; the feel of the grainy water entering her lungs; Edward's arm around her, pulling her up; the loss of consciousness; her father fishing them both from the sea; couching up water, almost as if she was vomiting up all of her insides; Edward's hand in hers.

She was, most of all, thankful to be alive and have Edward right next to her.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said desperately, hand finally placing itself on her head, gently ruffling her hair. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Sorry."

"It n-not that," she said past her remaining tears, looking up at him from behind her fist as she rubbed it over her eyes. "I'm just glad we didn't drown."

At first, Edward looked confused, like he couldn't believe that was why she was crying her eyes out. But then, his expression lightened, eyes understanding, face relaxing into a soft smile. He patted her head. "Me too."

Winry wiped at her eyes as Ed pulled his hand away, both still watching the other.

At that moment, something behind Edward caught her eyes, pulling her gaze toward it like a magnet.

A large jar, bigger than her father's sat on a shelf, sea glass glimmering in it.

Her bottom lip was suddenly trembling, eyes blurring with more tears, and then she was crying again, a child who had lost her cherished item.

"What's wrong now?" Edward asked, face pulled down in a slightly hopeless expression, almost like he couldn't take her crying for much longer.

"I lost my sea glass!" Winry sobbed out, covering her face with her arms, not wanting him to see her cry anymore and make fun of her for it.

"Your what?"

"My sea glass. I f-found it right before I lost t-the hat, and now i-it's gone!"

As she wallowed in self pity, she missed the way Edward's eyes seemed to light up in comprehension, then the action of him quickly digging into the pocket of his pants.

"Is this what you're talking about?" he asked.

Winry looked up, her eyes going wide and mouth turning up in a giant watery smile at the object Edward held. Her little piece of blue sea glass rested in his palm, awaiting her.

"You found it!" she squealed, taking it from him as quickly as she could, her fingers gently caressing the cool surface. It was perfect. She grinned up at Edward, taking in his crooked smile, like he knew he had made her happy but was at least trying to be humble about it.

"I found it right after your dad brought you inside," he said. "It was just sitting there on the beach, not too far from where we got dragged out. Your mom said that was where you'd been before getting in."

She smiled at him, wiping at her nose. "Thanks. So much."

"Whatever. Just don't cry again."

They smiled contently at each other, then lapsed into a comfortable silence that lasted for about a minute.

"You yelled at me," Winry said out of the blue, partly in mock hurt, but also really offended.

Ed looked at her for a moment, clearly lost, until he realized she was referring to earlier when he'd called her an idiot. His hand went up to the back of his head, pulling at his hair in a nervous manner. "Yeah, sorry. You just…you just scared me, is all."

"Is that why you jumped in?"

He looked at her like she was blind, but didn't say anything.

A strange warmth filled her chest, taking her mind momentarily off of the pain breathing gave her. So Edward could be sweet when he wanted to. She smiled at him, a little sheepish, then said, very quiet, "Thank you. For saving me."

He snorted, looking away. "I didn't save you."

Was it just her imagination, or was his voice slightly bitter? She scooted over on the couch until she was right beside him, then rested her head over on his shoulder, her hair still smelling like the ocean as it tickled her nose. "I would have died before Dad got to me if you hadn't pulled me up."

Edward stiffened under her for just a moment, then seemed to relax as he took her words in. He took a shallow intake of breath, almost like he was fighting tears, then leaned his head over against hers. "You scared me," he whispered.

Edward Elric wasn't someone to voice his fears to anyone, especially not Winry. But at that moment, he was allowing himself to be vulnerable, and Winry felt the warm bubble in her chest expand all the way down to her toes.

She closed her eyes, burying her face in his shoulder for as long as he would let her, the piece of sea glass held securely in her hand, a steady presence. "I'm sorry."

They said nothing else, and when Sara came in to check on them a few minutes later, both were sound asleep, heads together and leaning on the other.


	3. Closing

Edwards' eyes opened, the warm afternoon sun filtering in through the window next to the bed. He looked out over at the setting sun for a moment, then turned to his right and glanced down at his wife, a lazy smile spreading across his face. Winry's hair was like a haystack, stuck all over the place, up in one direction, against her cheek. It was silky against his skin, and he reached out, moving a strand that had fallen over her face. The setting sun cast a very gentle glow on Winry's face and exposed skin, her cheeks flushed from their earlier love making. Her expression was soft and relaxed and so utterly beautiful as she slept that Ed felt his own face grow warm.

He had to admit, honeymoons were great. They had another full week and a half here at Felsina Beach and he was, surprisingly, enjoying just about every minute of it.

Edward had lost almost all fondness of the beach the day that he and Winry had nearly drowned, his memories of it filled with swirling dark water and heavy sand, but mostly of Winry floating in the water, hair hovering wild around her face, her limp little body like a rag doll as Urey Rockbell carried her out of the water and up the beach, Edward right at his heels, coughing up water. When he'd first seen the wave about to swallow her up, he had felt the same fear the sight of his mother, lying unconscious on the floor, had given him. As her father had pushed in on Winry's chest, giving her CPR, then began pounding on her back to help get her breathing again, that fear had turned into cold dread and utter, terrifying misery as he'd thought Winry was about to die.

But she hadn't, and neither had he. That didn't make him hare the ocean any less for letting her live though. If fact, up until she had finally convinced him this was where she wanted to go on for their honeymoon, Edward had pretty much vowed never to set foot in the ocean again.

But Winry loved it, even after nearly being killed by it, and he hadn't been able to say no.

While his first memory of the beach wasn't a very fond one, his new ones were…nice. Edward found he didn't hate the beach, not really. He'd even gotten in the water a few times with Winry, but preferred to just walk along the beach, the water cool on his feet, often accompanied by his wife. She would take his hand and swing it back and forth, smiling and laughing at nothing in particular, which left Edward smiling and laughing.

Ed pulled her closer into his side, and she snuggled into him in her sleep, her head on his bare chest, the sheet wrapped around her torso. He sighed softly, rubbing her naked back as he looked over at the nightstand where she kept her glass jar filled with the sea glass she had found. Most of the colors were like the ocean, but he saw some more unique ones; one amber, another pink.

He remembered the small jar she kept back at home, the one that held only two pieces of glass: the one her mother had given her, a pale amethyst piece, and the ocean blue one Winry had found, lost, and have been presented to by Edward himself thirteen years ago. When he'd asked her why she hadn't brought them to put in the jar with her now average collection, she'd told him they were her special pieces, the ones she kept separate from the rest. He hadn't understood her then, but as he thought about it now, he realized they had certain significance to her. One was from her mother, the other the first piece she had ever found.

These memories, this time with Winry, were different than last time. Then, he had been a child, still bent on resurrecting his mother. He had been young, naïve, but still determined as hell to get the girl he liked to marry him someday. After that day, when he'd nearly seen Winry die and had almost drowned himself, the ocean had become a dark, evil place bent on taking away souls and feeding on them, gobbling up children and anything in sight. Salt water was something not to be trusted, as was sand.

Now, though, being here years later with Winry, in this way, was different and so much more than he'd imagined. They could actually swim now, go out deep but still be safe. He still wouldn't open his eyes under the water, but he'd tasted the salt on his tongue and found it wasn't really that bad. These memories wouldn't be made of terror and cold water, dread, dead weight, and burning lungs. They were everything about summer and beauty and love: the sun, warm and bright and hot on his back; the water, cool and foamy, salty; his feet slipping through the sand; taking long naps at any time of day, Winry curled up on his chest in the shade; the feel of the saltwater on his skin, the sea glass in his hand; Winry's hand on his arm, her smile warm and inviting and full of love, her kisses, her arms holding him.

Ed turned to the nightstand on his side of the bed, looking over at the random objects he had thrown around on it until his gaze settled on the piece of red sea glass she'd given him just that morning, its color darkened to a light brown in the orange sunlight. Winry was right; red really _was _his color, always would be. He smiled.

Maybe this piece would have a specific importance for him, just like Winry's two did.


End file.
